Play Things
by Creeper
Summary: The Jackel fancies a challenge when a girl bestowed with Dark Gifts begins to study the Glass House.
1. Default Chapter

[Play Things]

Such love these shadows hold. Dark fingers to wrap the body, a wraiths

embrace. And to flow through the grasp of darkness, to walk amoung the

demons sanctuary, to be here, and there, and forever in the shadows.

This was the apparitions haven. This was the ghostly household. Not

hell, not a haunted place, but a forgotten shelter. Tucked away,

safely distanced from human eyes. A place where no stones may be

thrown by wretched children. A castle standing against the ebb of

humanity. A box to forever hold all fables, fairy tales, and of

course, ghost stories.

[The Glass House]

The residents of the glass building did not leave to be dead, happily

ever after. The house wasn't destroyed, the evil, not abolished. The

family left, never to return to the holder of their nightmares,

shunned, happily leaving the hellish hole behind. But the wraiths

stayed, locked inside, eventually preferring this place of rest,

adopting it as 'home'. The castle of glass was large enough to

acomodate the quanitity of apparitions floating about, and with the

Eye of Hell no longer in opertating order, the walls no longer moved

the house into a maniacs maze. The commandments etched into the glass

wasn't something to loathe and hiss at, it simply made the rules, and

all was liveable, or..in their case, deadable.

Peace, quiet. Eternity seemed bareable in their little worlds. They

roamed, they rested, they lived out their sentences in the Glass

house. Each residing in their slice of hell, as they always had. No

one spoke to one another, yet none had anything to complain about. It

wasn't appealing to them to discuss their torture, their agony. A

sense of communial understanding had settled into the quiet halls of

the house, despite the daily agonizing screams or maniacal laughter.

All was well in the devils arms.

[Blue November]

Down the overgrown pathways. Through the trails of golden leaves.

Beneath the splindly fingers of frost-bitten trees. Follow the sharp

caress of the November breeze. This will lead you to the Devils Arms.

The path will take you to the House of Glass.

Down the well worn path to hell 

In sure and true of spirit

Gentleman, Ladies, now listen well

I'm sure that you will hear it

You don't have to strain to catch the sound of the apparitions, the

screams and cries carry well upon the wind. Drifting closer, a girl,

unaware, or so, followed the path. Naive? Unknowing? Perhaps. She

wandered down the trail, down and down. The breeze had settled long

ago, the sounds of the ghosts were lost in the air. But even so, that

wouldn't have deterred her. She knew where she was heading. The

spiritual path led her into the shadowy embrace of the devil. His

house was something she had searched for for quite some time now.

White hair suddenly billowed into the wind, long and willowy, the

strong breeze caught it up, playing with it in the air. Tangling and

twisting, still undeterred, she followed the path. How long had she

been walking? Wandering? Deeper and deeper into the forest, longer and

longer on this rode. Darkness was beginning to arc overhead, closing

the sky in the night. It wouldn't be long, hopefully.

The chill was strong, pale hands gripped at her coat, gathering warmth 

was difficult when the sun no longer lended the helping hand. But

perhaps the house would have something to offer when she arrived. Why?

Why was she searching out the infamous Glass House? Was it simply

spirits? Was it her past that lead her by the hand along this rode?

Long ago relatives were not important, and if she was asked, religion

was for the fools. Yet it wasn't her overpowering curiousity, she

wasn't that naive, nor stupid. She was a hunter. A student of the

devil, driven by the dead, as they say. She was not here to capture

and enslave, but to observe. Learn, study, take in the experience.

But she was not without a way to defend herself. As with all students

of the devil, she had her gifts. Dark gifts, deadly powers, and she

was quite apt to use them. But that will be revealed with time. As it

so happened, the Devils Arms had finally reached her, or the other way

around, as it was.

The shadows had a depth to them. They were live things, thick and

lovely as she walked towards the elborately built abode. Tales did the

sanctuary no justice. The inane scribblings upon the walls. An ancient

language. And with all things old, time only defines the beuty. Pale,

frigid fingers etched the symbols, falling the paths they made across

the panes of glass. The laws of the undead. The rules of the no longer

living. Would she one day be bound by this code? Would words she could

never hope to understand one day dictate her undead life?

A simple glance at the keyhole sent the door sliding upon. A gift. The

silence was broken as the glass slid across the floor. Once she had

entered, it returned to its formal place. The dust that had risen took

longer to settle, most of the grey dirt swirled about her feet as she

wandered into the bowls of the house. Thick, musty air proved that

nothing living had made resident for quite some time. No signs of

life, only death. She was an intruder here, an outsider that had

placed herself in the embrace of the devil. But where were those who

called this place home? The mental airwaves were quiet, nothing

disturbing the relative peace. Were they plotting? Have they

constructed their sick little plans?

A breath, a quick inhalation was all that reached Blue's ears when a

chill trickled down her spine. The first sign, they haven't left.

Clever little ghosts, aren't they? Perhaps these ghouls had

anticipated her arrivel. Was she really that clumsy? Had she

unknowingly projected her aura to them? All this time, after all the

mental and phsyical preparation, she might have just ruined it.

A foggy breath clouded before her face. They were closer. Much closer.

Running a clammy hand up her forearm, she steadied herself. The first

encounter, like impressions, would be important. The air shimmered,

another indication, and swirled about, twisting aura's into colors

before her eyes. Typical human vision would be unable to detect this,

but dark gifts were a welcome helping hand.

Round and round

the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel 

There, a glint of silver, a dash of blue. A wraiths senses had piqued

upon the girl. How sweet, delicious..Was this girl insane? How could

someone simply wander into this place, this haven for the dead, the

symbols of the zodiac. Did she deserve the shackles that he himself

was bound in? Perhaps she escaped, something that he could never do.

She was free... But his freedom was lost. He was the tragic disgrace

in this girls vision. That just wouldn't do. She should be punished,

this girl could not continue to be here, to be alive in his presence

when he had lost so much.

An ache, a longing in the very claws of his fingers urged him forward.

This was instinct, a finely toned drive that had been mastered. For

all the mobility that he had lost, the senses damaged, he had gained

so much more. His torture, though no more bareable, was what made him

what he was now. Insane? Murderous? Yes, that, but more. Some would

label it grotesque, but he had achieved an ancient sense. Primitive

instincts in this progressive world. He could do more than what others

could. He was better than them all. And now he would demostrate that

here, on this ignorant little girl.

Again her mental senses slammed into the wafting aura of the wraith. 

It was easy to understand that he knew she was here. His movements

were quick, precise, and closing in on her. Perhaps she should be

frightened by this. She should leave, run, escape this hell hole. But

she didn't. Her body tensed, prepared. Expectant for the collision

that would evidently happen in the next second or so. He must have not

known..

Poor poor girl..No pity shall befall your soul when it is devoured..

Crash, bang, boom.

White light exploded in the entrance of the Glass House, punctuated by

a hellion scream. It sent the shadows back into their nooks and

crannies, to cower till the bright illumination receded. Confusion was

all that could be sensed. The wraiths were startled, but not

frightened. After all, they were the ones who sent the chills to creep

along your spine. They were the figures etched in nightmares or

children and adults alike. Fear was foriegn to them all. Their aura's

filled the halls, colliding with one another. Brisk fights insued, but

for the most part, their curiousity reigned over, sending them faster

to the main entrance.

Whispers, so beautiful. Reveries of twilit evenings, of the wind 

dancing through the tree's arms. The leaves rustled, not forgotten.

Whispering, whispering, telling their secrets. Confused? Harsh arms

braced her cold bodice. This was not the same. The tree, the sunset!

The memory was fading, driven away by her regaining conscienceness.

The ceiling arced overhead in her vision. Darkness, yet still visible.

The shadows didn't often hide definitions in Blue's vision like so

many others were cursed with. The darkness had been friend, not foe,

for quite some time. Like usual, it did not fail her tonight. The

letters and symbols were glowing brightly suddenly. A ghost was

wafting above her, on the other side of the glass ceiling. It passed

without recognition. Perhaps the written laws rendered the wraith

unable to sense the fallen human below it.

Oh so slowly, her senses perked alive once again. Pain burst through

her limbs, jarring her memory of just what had created it. The

tingling that spiked in her appendages made rising difficult, but not

impossible. She inspected the room with only her mental aura,

searching out all of the darkest corners, scrutinizing the room that

she resided in. This wasn't the same place she was before. Something

had moved her after being knocked unconscience. Still, she should be

frightened, yet she refused. She wasn't dead yet. Air still escaped

her lips, twisting and twirling, fogging. Alerted by this, her senses

scoured the room till they alighted upon something that had entered.


	2. Steel Dreams

[Play Things]  
  
Of men and monsters, where did this soul stand? Ghastly and horrid was all that emitted from his aura, yet this thing had a mind, something to think with, something to ponder with. Wraiths were so complicated. They danced lively in the shadows, they were apart of something more. And though Blue was close to comprehending this, she felt quite certin that soon she would be falling off a proverbial cliff, right into the depths of oblivious and confusion. Surely she would never understand all that this apparition symbolized. If she could only see..  
  
There he stood, in the doorway constructed from two panes of glass. The area glowed brightly as the commandments written upon the walls kept him from sinking into the glass. The walls were made to stand against the iron will of the wraiths, and how very well they worked. Obviously much to their disappointment, yet they no longer fought against the written laws of the house. The chains wouldn't budge and the acceptance seemed to be strained.  
  
What did he see? Did his eyes search her soul as he stood there, stoically? Even with her exceptional night vision, somehow, the shadows betrayed her, and hid his eyes from her vision. Was he manipulating the darkness? Was this mystery feigned only to further confuse her? She wouldn't be able to stand it longer if some questions went unanswered. She was here to study, to learn, and so far she had only succeeded to gaining new questions to further mystify her mind.  
  
Why wouldn't he move? Standing there, tall and dark and so very mysterious. The aura that clouded his form was strong, dark. It seemed that if she were to graze the air around him, she would cut herself and bleed. Wouldn't he like that? Some how this seemed like a lie. She wasn't completely certin, but she was beginning to believe that he was lieing to her. And that just wasn't polite.  
  
It pained her to move. When she allowed her feet to fall to the floor, agony spiked through her limbs. Air choked in her throat, burning to be released, but her body seemed to refuse. What happened to cause this? Her mind betrayed her, and memories were small and brisk, only glimpses of what had happened. Light, and a whole lot of it. The illumination was a wretched enemy, and held her back from seeing just what was happening.  
  
Her reverie was broken by the unsettling sensation of her skin attempting to crawl from her bones. The chill, so strong it was painful, seemed to turn the tips of her fingers blue. That was a very unwelcome color in those limbs. So stuck upon this observation, Blue didn't realize that the cause of this condition had advanced upon her.  
  
..Jackel..  
  
The name escaped her lips, twisted through the air, and abruptly stopped the advancing apparition.   
  
Who was she to utter his name? The title that the devil himself had given him. The curse that only a few were lucky enough to know, and live. Some of the very residents of house weren't even knowledgable of that much.  
  
"Very good..But do you know my real name?"  
  
His words were so twisted and tangled by the strength of his aura, that she didn't listen to his physical voice, but brushed against the fabric of his mind to understand what he had asked of her, much to his admonishment. He growled, a monsterous sound, and gripped the girls throat, lifting her from the metal table that she no longer occupied. Where skin connected with ghostly material, light blossomed, a brilliant white. Needless to say, the ghost dropped her, abruptly. She landed upon the damnable table neatly, and once again was blinded with pain.  
  
"..No.."   
  
She groaned, only able to utter the small response. Her own voice sounded foriegn on her lips.  
  
Surprise, shock..He was unable to touch her. Seering heat flared, much like before, when he brushed upon her skin. This wouldn't do. How could he not kill, mangle, and destroy? That was what was expected of him, that was what he was programmed to do. Instinct or not, he attained his sick joy from stealing life. And it had been so long..That was just him, and his existance seemed faulty if he was unable to comply with his life, the thought was maddening, and very much unbareable. But then, so was he.  
  
What was she expecting? A petting zoo? Her gifts had failed her, the only thing that held this ghoul back was entirely something new to her, and even then, it didn't keep his clawed hands off of her skin. Though he was certainly repelled by it. Peering up, she glanced upon his face, still unable to see past the shadows and into his eyes. Surely he was manipulating the shadows to perplex her. Again a creeping chill marched down her spine. Something else, and this night wasn't looking up in her favor. Why were the shadows betraying her?  
  
Her shallow years wound through her head when her eyes alighted upon the new aura. The physical body of the Juggernaut strolled through the doorway soon after. She didn't believe she would die, but was certain that she would regret her life here on out. His sly grin only fueled the flames that created that trail of thought.  
  
The new wraith blinked in and out of view, like something would veil her vision momentarily. He turned his head to peer at the Jackel, who seemed dwarfed compaired to the massive apparition. With both of their aura's pressing upon her temples, Blue was sure that she wouldn't leave this room without a battered and bruised spirit. Power wasn't an adequite word to describe what she felt leaning against her soul, it was too spiritual for such a common word.  
  
"Leave..."  
  
The word hissed in her ears twisted and oddly wrong, but mostly the sensation was in her mind. Fur against her conscience, soft, yet harsh, terribly harsh. The Jackel glowered at the other apparition, yet wide eyes fell upon her body, only a moment, disapproving that she had violated his mind once again, then back to the second ghost. Their spirits pushed back and forth, testing, resisting. The otherworldly motion made Blue dizzy, and if this wasn't completely on another plane, she felt that she would have toppled from her perch upon the table, pushed away by the sheer strength that they displayed. Finally, though, the Juggernaut disappeared, reappearing in the doorway, walking away, before blinking out of view once again. Loud crashes and sounds of various objects being destroyed insued.  
  
Blue's gaze had rested on the doorway, the last place she had seen the now absent ghost, but it didn't take long for her to realize that the Jackel's was securely upon her form. Her fogged exhalation and the annoyence of the goosebumps upon her flesh reminded her that the danger didn't leave with the Juggernaut, but was keenly enhanced now that there was nothing to distract the present wraith. 


	3. Twisted Devotion

[Play Things]  
  
Praise the one who left you  
  
broken down and paralized  
  
Little angel go away  
  
the devil has my ear today  
  
I'll never hear a word you say  
  
))a.n.[/] I know what you're thinking. How can one love another who gets their kicks like a masochist, only in a more deadly sense? Well my friends, romance doesn't always have to mean Love, because lust is directly linked to the big "L" word ;D((  
  
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And I'll take you  
  
Like a stormy ocean  
  
And I'll give you  
  
These motions of emotion  
  
And I'll have you  
  
With this twisted devotion  
  
Possessive, greed, dark emotions boiled alive. Turning and writhing below the surface. Loathing and lusting were two potent mixtures. And this house seemed to adore the two quite a lot, an epicenter for sinners.   
  
"What are you?"  
  
Again she caressed his mind, searching for the meaning behind his words. Anger flared the moment she found his words, seething and burning the air it seemed. Blue hid her fear, but couldn't help but flinch when seeing his reaction. Spiders and monsters and nightmares and all things creeping and crawling nightterrors were there, behind the veil of his aura. Touching his conscience was second nature, it happened naturally, and truthfully, she wished she wouldn't reach out herself. Something told her he wouldn't understand. Call it her intuition of the darkness, or a gift.   
  
"A necromancer."  
  
Her voice seemed choked and she all but breathed her answer. Would he know? Would he understand what it meant to be a necromancer? She waited and studied his features, eager for a reaction, anticipating his next move, hoping it wouldn't be violent. But then, this was a ghost of hell, automatically, that was a very real possibility.  
  
As if the wind had blown his aura away, his presence was lifted, the weight of his conscience was off of her shoulders. The Jackel had disappeared. She cringed, expecting pain. But when he didn't flicker back into view, her curiousity was piqued. He left her. As if by her being a necromancer wasn't appealing. Foolishly, she felt insulted by his sudden abandonment. Was it something she said?  
  
A breathy sigh was exhalted from her lips. She couldn't stay entombed in this little room. The very bones of her body ached, but it wasn't enough to keep her from her duty. Healing came naturally swift for her, yet often enough the process wasn't fast enough to her liking. Tonight was a perfect, if exasperating, example. The tips of her fingers tingled when she brushed them against the metal table. The ghosts of the house must visit this tiny, dark room often. The smooth surface was cool and smooth to the touch, like someone shined the table nightly. It was absurd, to say the least.   
  
Blue had entered the hall and only walked three steps before the ghastly, chilling effect ran down her spine again. A slick coat of sweat trickled down the back of her neck. The frigid air enveloped her, cool arms to wrap around her body. Her stomach seemed to have squeezed into a knot as she realized whatever had come to inspect the intruder was standing terribly close behind her. Instincts told her to run, duty demanded that she look over her shoulder. A learning expirence must never be lost.  
  
"The Juggernaut is not happy with you and Ryan at all.."  
  
A feminine tone hissed in her ear, sounding nearly cheerful about this proclamation of hers. And yet again, the sound of her voice was so distorted and clouded by the strange and powerful aura that fogged the air, Blue was forced, if unconsciencly, to press against this new ghosts mind to understand the comment. A gasp followed, the aura withdrawing just the slightest.  
  
"You should be careful doing that," it said, nearly whining like she was about to melt into tears. Blue finally turned, peering at a shocked and very naked Angry Princess. She looked hurt that Blue had touched her aura with mental fingers. The shimmering air about her open body seemed to have weakened, drawing in near the apparition.  
  
"Sorry.." Blue whispered, believing momentarily that if she frightened this girl one of two things might result. Either she be attacked viciously and both end up harmed, or she might flee. Again she had to turn to the fact that these hallow souls flitting about were residing in the devil arms. Violence was aloft on the air, sustained by hellion emotions. The very walls of the house seemed to hold it's breath, awaiting for the clashes of the ghosts to break the silence. Nothing good could come of twelve very strong and very loatheful spirits occupying one house, and yet that was their choice. Perhaps that was the bait that lured Blue into the heart of the Glass Castle.  
  
"Don't worry about it, it's not the first time i've been violated," she shrugged, sounding just a bit cynical as she toyed with the cherished butcher knife.   
  
Blue furrowed her eyebrows, understanding, yet not at the same time. Was that what it felt like? A violation? How could someone take advantage of a ghost? A remnant of their life, a shadow of what once was, but no longer is. That was what she was instructed to believe, and it was a fine explanation. Something told her that she shouldn't mention it to this girl at the moment, however.  
  
"Well, still..," Blue began, a bit stronger.  
  
"No-no..it's still a pleasure to meet you, ya know, with the Jackel running around, it will be difficult for anyone, well, that is, anyone you would -like- to the meet, to catch even a glimpse of you..," Again she shrugged, toying with her knife still, her gaze wandered over Blue's shoulder.  
  
"Why's that?" Blue inquired, cleary perplexed. The Jackel had only left her a couple of minutes ago, and already he had made things difficult for her.  
  
"Well..ya know.." The princess's dark gaze seemed to bore into Blue's eyes, the black void felt ready to swallow her whole. A chilling sensation overcame her, not to forget the already frozen air that the ghoul emitted.  
  
"No, not really.." Blue pushed her to answer the question, but it didn't seem like she was ready to give anything up. That was all she needed, a reluctant ghost to add to the already growing pile of headaches. A working Gift would be the solution, yet she didn't want to press upon her aura anymore than she already was. Now that was a contradiction. Hadn't she already ascertained that she couldn't violate an apparition? Blue mentally shook her head. The darkness wasn't playing the rules straight tonight.  
  
"You should ask him.." The voice seemed weak again, like she was shrinking away. Her horridly deep gaze was no longer strong and consuming, but small, further away, almost. Blue had done it again, it seemed. She must have battered her mental walls black and blue without even realizing it,"But watch your back, like I said..the Juggernaut.."  
  
The Angry Princess must have not been able to take the bruising effect of conversing with Blue any longer, she flickered out of view, reappearing and disappearing once again further down the hall.  
  
A perferct waste of time. The girl had done nothing but given her a warning that was already cleary in the open. Blue had known that the massive apparition that had walked in on her and the Jackel would be loathsome from the Jackel expelling him from the scene. And what had she referred to him as? Ryan? So the psycotic soul had a name, how quaint. The shadows didn't often bestow gifts from early lives to the creepers of the night, yet these ghost's acted like it was typical, nothing special hiding under the bed there.  
  
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[un.speci.al]  
  
Shadows and darkness, Gods of the Umbra. The house was brimming with otherworldly escence. In every nook of this Castle of Glass was the familiar sense that she had been searching for. It was secretive, knowing, and sensual and how she loved it. Being a growing necromancer, outcasting from society wasn't rare. She felt that she could live in this broken house. Yet she was certain the current residents wouldn't appreciate more space being stolen from them.  
  
Every hallway, every room, every closet, every bathroom had been inspected. Not another sign of a remnant had been spotted. Twelve free apparitions made residency here and only three had been caught sight of. Needless to say, yet again she had been betrayed by her gifts. Were they not attracted to her ethereal power? The darkness was hers to manipulate and yet it seemed canceled as soon as she stepped foot into the Glass House. It was frustrating, and she allowed herself to be lost in thought, struggling over this mystery, choosing a conviently placed seat to rest in.  
  
A blanket of fog cloaked the floor at her feet. Rolling across the marble tile from unknown regions. Dark eyes blinked in surprise when realization hit her. Brilliantly, white light glowed around her feet that were consumed by the mist. Blue lent back into the chair, watching as the fog wafted over the floor in a thick layer. It was then, after the fog had completely hid the floor and the light reaction of Blue's skin was beginning to hurt her eyes that the Jackel appeared. Somehow Blue was suspicious that this wasn't a coincidence.  
  
"You're sweet, all of this for me?" Blue absentmindedly motioned to the floor, referring to the fog that now drenched it. Ryan didn't budge from the middle of the floor, his dark gaze not wavering from Blue's own.  
  
"I didn't know I was that important, do you do this often?" Blue blinked innocently, yet still no reaction from the apparition.  
  
"Well, I don't know what you're trying to do, but if you'll be so kind as to excuse me, I need to find some of your friends before bed.."  
  
Casually, she made her way out of the sitting room. Every step seemed to result in a thousand more goosebumps upon her skin. The bright glow around her ankles seemed to part the fog away as she waded through it, under the ever-vigilent gaze of the Jackel.  
  
That manipulating bastard..  
  
Blue walked about the house in a haze of red anger, searching haphazardly for ghouls. Not so much as a cool freeze caressed her skin as she stormed from one room to another, slamming doors and even tossing a chair or two about the place. He must be enjoying this, he must love to see her angered and that was why he was teasing her. The aire of darkness he wrapped about himself, he must think he's special, the haughty bastard.  
  
Half aware of herself and her surroundings, she chose a room to lock herself in for the night. The whole building was aptly secure, she didn't expect a burgler would get far, yet a closed and locked door helped her feel safe and qualmed her nerves. Just to check, she glanced darkly at the door nob, yet nothing happened, just as she had expected. No door had ever kept her out, yet this house had nuetralized her usual Gifts. She huffed and twisted the lock. As soon as she released the door's handle, the atomsphere of the room dropped to the otherworldly cool, feeling nearly sensual. Quick eyes searched for signs of an apparition as she pressed herself against the door, thus not expecting to be propelled across the room by a force at her back.  
  
Landing roughly upon her stomach at the foot of her bed, she was yet again lifted from the floor, yet only partially as her back was bowed against the edge of the bed, arcing as her head and upper body rested on the matress. White light flashed upon her skin, all over the front of her body. Blue was barely able to sit on her legs as the Jackel blinked in and out of view, leaning against her, he pushed his caged face against hers, licking a wet trail from her neck to her cheek before disappearing all together. Blue gaspsed from the sudden release. She wiped at the wetness he had left behind. It seemed a locked door couldn't keep him out, simply enough.  
  
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[A.n.][Where did you all find the Jackels and the Torn Princes real names? Were they made up?] 


	4. Dead Souls

The Forgotten Disclaimor - Thirteen Ghosts is not (c) to me, but the story and Blue just so happen to be.  
  
[Play Thing]  
  
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[Fetish]  
  
I watched a change in you  
  
It's like you never had wings  
  
Now you feel so alive  
  
Desecrated, it was the perfect word to discribe her current state of mind. When the darkness had been tranquil, her mind in the lovely tide of serenity, all had been well. Placid waves had been what sustained her. But she had lost her composure. Lost it all thanks to the lovely rucus the Jackel had bespelled her with. He was maddening. An awful thing that occupied this wonderous house. A simple stain on the lovely glass that maintained the structure of the house. He was horrible to say the very least.  
  
Blue had become lost in the sea of comforters upon the very bed that she had nearly not made it to thanks to the unforgiveable actions of the Jackel. Or actually, if she had allowed her musings to carry that far, she might have made it to the bed soley because of his help, and all that he might have had in mind. But she wasn't about to let her thoughts roam into the explicit area of her mind tonight. How could she? At any moment that morbid spirit might decide to have another round with her. Though she felt assured by the shadows that tonight wouldn't be interupted again.  
  
She wasn't disturbed by his sensuous implications. It was lewd to even consider what was on his mind when he ran his tounge along her flesh. Her thoughts were maddening and sleep didn't seem any closer since she had climbed into bed. Supple sheets and downy comforters weren't dispelling the thoughts that clamoured around her head. The sensation of being licked by a ghost still tingled along the path that he had created. More than once she found her fingers tracing along the trail. Yet her mind stayed a blessed blank. A content white, contradicting the void that she typically imersed herself in.   
  
This was where she stayed the entire night. It didn't surprise her when sleep never arrived. Though her body was tense with idea that at any moment an unwelcome visitor might enter the room, her mind lay silent. Hallow and unmolested.  
  
When morning finally arced across the sky, dispersing the nightlife, Blue wasn't quite ready. Surely these incorporeal wraiths were nocturnal. So just maybe it would be safe to capture the elusive gift of sleep whilst they were simmered for the day.  
  
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[Corvis Umbra]  
  
My soul's worn thin  
  
Beneath the shelter of obscurity, the gloom and umbrage had nurtured her soul. Beneath of the cover of darkness had she matured and her curiosity had led her by the hand to this place of the phantoms. Where they dead dance upon graves and throw all caution to the wind. This was like home to her, despite the fault that had followed. When Blue slipped back into the grasp of consciencness, her grudge was left upon her pillow. Relative peace seemed within reach on the falling crest of evening, when she had awoken. Light was falling away, and blessed darkness was creeping back into place.  
  
The light rythem of rain lazily pelted the roof of glass. From where Blue stood, within the confines of the entrance of the house, she could peer directly upon and watch the hazy torrent hail upon the clear canopy. Her own wish to stay in the glass sanctuary banished her hatred for the jackel. She was back in the white void and blessed the serenity that crossed and covered her mind.  
  
Yet it wasn't to last. An icy hand penetrated her placid state and she was launched back into an arctic atomsphere. Despite the benumbed air that seemed to have frozen inside her lungs, a seering heat lashed out from her shoulder where a wraiths hand had clamped down upon her. The sweltering warmth was effecting not only the appartent ghost, but her as well. To her astonishment, the pain didn't seem to be dislodging the hand upon her, and the agony was only growing for her.  
  
Numb hands clawed at the foe, yet to no avail. Her distress brought her to her knees as fingers brushed against cold flesh with less and less vehemence. Starbursts were clouding her vision, the patter of the rain seemed further away, and the stale white of her mind seemed more sinister.  
  
Her eyes were slipping closed, and conscienceness, more elusive. Yet when she found herself standing on the edge of life, the breath was knocked from her lungs. The door to the house was suddenly connected with her face. Something had flung her across the room, landing her neatly at the door. Escape. She was still alive, and there was still a chance to continue on. Now if only this door wasn't locked. If only her gifts were still alive under the curse that neutralized them. She could feel it, shimmering beneath the veil.  
  
A wicked shriek reverbrated in her ears. Her breath fogged before her, and her fingers were a vivid blue. Behind her fallen form, Ryan stood over the Juggernaut, who was slowly regaining his composure. The massive wraith cradled one hand close to his body as he found his feet. The Jackel was close behind, watching him with belligerent eyes.   
  
Blue crawled slowly closer to the decorative door, the first slid open, allowing her entrance, yet it was the second that she would have to attempt to persuade her passage through. Behind her, another scream rang clear through the room and in her ears. She tightly squeezed her eyes and found enough strength to pull her to the door. Sounds of destruction started up, hailing goosebumps along her skin as the temperature plummeted again. The very chair that she had sat in the night before sailed over her head, hammering into the wall and raining pieces of wood and plastic upon her back.  
  
The tips of her toes and fingers tingled nearly painfully, yet she had made it to the door. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. Though she wasn't naive enough to believe that the stay would pass without incident, she didn't believe that she wasn't capable of defending herself against these creatures. She expected clashes would arise, yet she also believed that the very aura she carried could manipulate them into being docile during her stay. This was the last thing she believed would happen, and here she was, making an agonizing and clearly painful journy, crawling for the door and hoping beyond belief that she could muster a Gift to open the door.  
  
The clamoring violence behind her made an abrupt stop after one last excruciating scream. Her heart felt like it was striving to climb out of her throat. With the fight over, it might the winner could turn its attention to her. She didn't dare turn her gaze over her shoulder, but instead pressed her palm against the door. The caustic sensation lashed throughout her body as she swung all hope in uncovering the much desired Gift to release the lock and open the door. She buried herself into finding and utilizing this power, clawing through her mind at a nearly unbareable speed. Faster and faster, opening her minds doors and hoping to find the darkness of her strength.  
  
Finally she found it and to her relief the door slid open. Bones and muscles ached from the exertion, yet still, the escape was not over. The frigid atomosphere had lifted just a little, but the intensity on her body of being watched and followed didn't leave. She was up on her hands and knees and attempting to stand to run, yet not five steps were taken before she toppled and down into the mud she fell. Rain water caused her clothing to cling to her body as mud caked the front of her body. She literally felt like writhing in pain, yet she knew well enough that it wouldn't expell her from the situation. The ache throughout her body had numbed her arms and legs, yet still she strived to stand, to run, to escape and leave this all behind.  
  
The thump of her beating heart stopped when yet another icy hand grasped her shoulder. This time there was no glow, the nuetralizing effect of the house was behind her, yet it didn't stop her natural necromancer gifts anymore. She used this now to her advantage, creating shadowy fingers to lash out from her body, wrapping dark appendages around the offender, and tossed him away. How good it felt to have this release, to let the shadows that had been pent up inside her body free once more.  
  
Exhaustion overwhelmed her, however. To just rest, to lay her head down, that was all she wanted. The power that she had created had drained her away, wrung her clean of strength. So worried she had been, how far did she throw the wraith? When..when would he be back? And just who had she attacked? Did it matter, though? They were the ones that had advanced upon her fallen and frail form.  
  
Dark eyes closed when yet again frigid hands wrapped around her body. They grasped her torso and lifted her from the ground, and all Blue could do was groan in her defense. They cradled her in a wintry grasp against its chest. Blue's head lolled about, her eyes rolling back as rain caressed her face. The earth seemed so far away. Vision so blurred, sounds so muffled..and darkness, blessed unconsciencness. Would she die now?  
  
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[Excess]  
  
I cannot be forsaken, because I'm not the only one  
  
She felt alive, vibrant beneath his skin. His dead and broken flesh. She made him feel real, part of the world once more. She was his, then. Not a living thing, but ethereal and vivid. Without the spirits defense, she felt so different from before. There was no anguished consiquence for touching her skin anymore, nothing keeping him from her, and he liked it like that. With the living and the dead entwined, the world seemed right once more. The ever-going existance of being alive in a world meant only for the living seemed bareable with a someone to share the agony with.  
  
I don't want to see you alone down there  
  
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[a.n.] I was tempted to leave Excess out, but i'm not entirely sadistic -all- the time. I'm thinking about Comedy for my next thirten ghosts appearence, eh? Angst and Comedy, my two favorite colors to work with. '   
  
There was a lot of stuff I wanted to do, but didn't. So I might edit some things in it later, maybe, maybe not..Meet some more ghosts, which means more interaction between Blue and the Jackel,so..yeh? It would make Ryan's intentions a little more clear.. oki, i'm thinking to myself x.x[end of a.n./] 


	5. We all Fall Down

[Play thing]  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
[October Reverie]  
  
I see nothing but pain and misery  
  
Cause you are the one for me  
  
Why can't it all be true  
  
Can I escape with my blue fallen reverie  
  
Why can't it all be true  
  
Falling and falling and falling. Indisposed, that she was. Eternity seemed to have perched upon her shoulders. The weight of the world found her head as a new refuge. Down and down and down she went, oblivion was forever and she was falling through it's center. Further and further, her soul slipped from her body's grasp and she was merely a lost thought in the eyes of the gods. No longer part of the concept. The fabric of life had ripped and her thread was forgotten on the wind. Her conscience leaked away, far behind in a puddle to dry in the dawning light of day.   
  
There was only her, in the void of obscurity that she seemed to reside in. Only her, and the cold grasp that seemed to encompass her body. Sensations were far away, like the moisture that covered her body, yet the icy touch was the same, immediate and reassuring that maybe death had forsaken her on this wretched night. Nustled closely in this nest of winter, she reached for those lost and farway feelings. Fabric, old and dusty, a burnt aroma. They were closing now, the distance she had to span to expirence these sensations were no longer great. The sound of her shallow breath, the groans she emitted, they were near her once more. She was still out of touch, however. Still floating high above the earth, in the icy grip that she was nuzzled into.  
  
The electric path of pain, however, came first. Shooting through her limbs. The nirvana was over, before she had time to decide where the lost sensations were coming from, the pain took hold of her battered and broken body. Why couldn't she last in that place? Why not stay floating aloft, where nothing could taint her?  
  
More ice seeped into her mind. She was aware of the cold more than ever now. Her senses were bombarded as she was waking. The rain was lashing her skin, the pain, most of all, was jarring her to full conscienceness, but the most confusing impression that tingled along her skin was the embrace that she was being cradled in. Old, frigid fabric with it's dusty burnt scent that wafted around her, despite the torrents of rain to beat it down. The ethereal aura felt anything but.  
  
Blurry eyes blinked past the water that didn't help her already cloudy vision to gaze up at the thing that held her close. She felt numb as dread flitted through her body. The sinister cage, and the burnt aroma that no longer was a mystery to her anymore. Obsidian eyes peered down at her through the twisted opening. No emotion could be detected in his ghastly facade. This wasn't the best place to discover that you were immobile. The arms of a psychotic wraith, it wasn't inviting in the least.  
  
Breaths became more shallow and swift. Panic was raising the hairs along her neck, an ugly beast that squeezed her heart of life. The Jackel was cleary intrigued, his gaze became deeper as he inspected her closer, drawing in for the best view. Blue's panic increased, and again a Gift was reawoken, stirring to a powerful life force and whipping black tendrils to strike at the offending apparition. The strength it took to bring this Gift to life was too much for Blue. Agonizing pain wreaked havoc on her body and she screamed her hatred for this night loudly. The Jackel dropped the writhing Blue to escape her defensive attack, shielding himself and snarling in defience. Blue's misery didn't stop there, however. Still suffering, drained of energy, she raised onto her hands and knees. She slumped into each sliding crawl, only making it three feet before she sagged to the muddy earth again, consumed by darkness.  
  
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{Let me Fall}  
  
Conscienceness slowly seeped back into her nearly lifeless body. It was obvious she was not waking where she had last lay her head. The cold cement floor hadn't been kind to her limp bodice. She was sore, and not just from the beating she had taken the evening before. Darkness veiled her blurry vision. The calm sound of a wirring machine was all that broke the serene enviroment. A contant reassurence that she was alive, though not well. Her bruised body reminded her in full force of the events, though sadly it did not help her remember just where she was. A mixture of fevered sweat, blood, and water coated her body and made a sticky puddle of water on the floor where she lay.  
  
Her body screamed at her to lay still and rest, yet her restless mind prodded her to sit up and take a look around. Aching muscles and torn, bruised skin pulled and stretched. Sitting up was a whole expirence unto itself. She groaned and coughed, then realized that the metallic taste of blood coated her tounge. She didn't mind it, but it distracted her enough to not realize that the temperature dropped a couple of degrees while she was exploring the taste.  
  
Behind her, sitting on glowing scriptions, sat a child ghost, watching the battered form of Blue. A sudden gasp, and a turn made too quick and Blue swirled to inspect her observer. The ghost was stoic, not amused or surprised by the girls reaction and consiquental groans. He sat with his dead stare, watching and studying Blue's unguarded facade. Her fragile expression seemed right as she scrutinized the wraith. Her mind continuely relived the past hours leading to now. Her gaze flitted around, putting together what she saw, before letting her eyes fall back to the statuesque form of the First Born Son.  
  
The containment cubes. The small prisons of the resident apparitions. It surprised her that they would even consider crossing into the basements, considering that this was the place of their captivity. How ironic, did this mean she was unable to leave, now? A glance at the opening told her that she was free, perhaps. The First Born Son was beside her, and she doubted he would choose to be imprisoned with her.   
  
"Am I free?" Blue shifted to better see the ghost.  
  
"Why wouldn't you be?" his tone was deceptively younge and carefree, a large contradiction to the deadpan expression on his face.  
  
"Why am I here, then?"  
  
"Ryan brought you here, I'm not sure why, but my guess is that he's keeping you for something.." the boy then grinned, hinting at mischeif that surprised Blue. Somehow she had believed he was naive, but not any longer.  
  
"Where is he now?" Blue grimaced as she shifted again, looking towards the sign on the open door. The emblem indicating the Jackal graced the glass.  
  
"Somewhere.." he lost his grin then, returning to the blank expression, sitting in his indian style, watching stoically.  
  
Blue frowned, but didn't chase the question, she doubted he would give her any useful information anyways, though she was loathe to stay unknowing for long.   
  
She dropped the conversation there. Ghosts were never any good at lengthy, intelligent speech, as she heard, and being here to expirence this only strengthed her belief. She passed a few minutes inspecting her broken, battered flesh. Several large bruises and uncountable ammounts of cuts and scratches decorated her skin in intricate random patterns. Though the most impressive abrasion on her body was the bloody bruise on her shoulder. A welp the size of a large hand, no less, cupped her shoulder. Dead flesh that was burned and frozen at the same time, due to the frigid power of the wraith and her own systems fiery defensive strategy, turned against her, had created it.  
  
The First Born Son watched idly, his curiosity piqued at the condition of the humans body. Though he'd seen the damage one could inflict upon living flesh, he held a morbid fascination with it nonetheless.  
  
"The handywork of Breaker, I'd bet..He hasn't been happy since you've arrived here..I don't know why, probably Ryan's fault..They fight a lot..But just last night..it got pretty rough, ya know?"  
  
Blue could only look confused, trying to comprehend what he was hinting at.  
  
"Well, I guess you wouldn't, you were out of it for the most part.." he shrugged, the first motion he produced since Blue had awoken, "Well, I wouldn't suggest coming out of the basement, wouldn't want to run into Breaker again, 'specially if Ryan's not around..We'd be left with another body to get rid of, and mostly none of us like going outside, it stinks.."  
  
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End file.
